“And for the record.” He actually smiled this time. “I do not storm.”
“My word choice offended you?” This guy sure had the whole mysterious thing down. The suit, the stubble . . . that face. But this was a good place to talk. In public with plenty of people right there in case she needed to hit him with a chair. “At least get a coffee and sit back down so we can discuss this.”
“I already have one.” In a few steps he went to the counter and grabbed a to-go cup with the name Brian on it that had been sitting there since she picked up her drink more than a half hour ago. Then he was back by her side at the table. “Think about what I said.”
She doubted she’d be able to think about anything else. “I don’t take orders well.”
“Take this one.” With a nod he headed for the door.
She scrambled to her feet, grabbing for her purse and swearing when it caught around the back of the chair. She hit the sidewalk a few seconds later, looking up and down, past the groups of people walking and talking. Frustration screamed in her brain as a siren wailed in the distance. Still, nothing. No sign of black-suit guy. He’d disappeared.
CHAPTER 2
“You’re back.” Garrett McGrath handed out that verbal assessment as he walked into the plush office in the nondescript beige building near Capitol Hill. He carried a file and wore his usual ready-for-anything expression. “You didn’t have a meeting on your calendar. Where were you?”
From anyone else Wren would ignore the question. Garrett enjoyed the rare ability to say almost anything because in addition to being Wren’s second-in-command, they were friends. But that didn’t mean Wren felt like providing a long-winded explanation. He nodded in the direction of the empty cup in the middle of his oversized desk. “Getting coffee.”
Garrett halted in midstep. “Since when?”
“I drink beverages like normal humans.” But seeing the former counterintelligence officer knocked speechless made Wren’s unexpected trip outside the office and miles away worth it.
Garrett winced. “You’re not really what I’d call normal.”
“Meaning?” Wren leaned back in his chair, not sure what he’d hear next.
“I think the comment was pretty self-explanatory.”
“Ah.” Wren decided not to poke around in that conversation any longer. “Well, it’s always nice to have the respect of one’s employees.”
Garrett once analyzed patterns and devised strategies for the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency. He could map and plan, command a room while explaining complex ideas in coherent terms. Now he worked for Wren, and Wren found perverse pleasure in watching Garrett lose some of his admirable control.
But Wren had to admit his friend had a point. He usually traveled from home to work, almost always in darkness and never with any fanfare. He lived his life in the shadows, doing the type of work that demanded confidentiality and precision. But after hearing reports about Emery’s digging and studying the file he assembled on her, something compelled him to meet her. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t try.
Garrett’s eyes narrowed as he studied the cup. “You don’t make coffee runs.”
“I needed fresh air.” That seemed like something a normal person might do. At least, Wren guessed that might be true. Rather than belabor the point he stared at the file in Garrett’s hands. “What do you have for me?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“You just described my reaction to most of the work we do here.” Owari Enterprises. His baby. The company with nothing more than a name on the door. No advertising, no marketing. He’d opened the doors right after his thirtieth birthday. Now, five years later, it thrived.
His firm’s reputation, its ability to get the dirty operations done, spread by word of mouth. The work was demanding, and usually top secret. He knew how to keep his mouth shut and so did the few people who worked in his office and the trusted band of individuals he depended on to do work in the field.
He was a fixer. More to the point, he was the fixer. The man powerful people, entire governments, turned to in order to pull off the impossible.
“Ms. Finn is at it again.” Garrett walked the rest of the way to the L-shaped desk in the middle of the room and dropped the thick stack of papers on the edge. “She keeps calling Senator Dayton. We need to stop her before someone gets sick of her sneaking around and loses their shit.”
“Eloquent, as always.”
“How should I have said it? She’s on the verge of making a fucking mess.” Garrett’s smile didn’t falter. “Is that better?”